Sick Day
by Threaded Needles
Summary: Jaime is stuck on a twenty-four hour mission with Cassie. Except it doesn't exactly go as planned. Slight Wonderbeetle, if you squint.


"You'll be accompanying Beast Boy and Guardian on Gamma in Tokyo. There seems to be-" Nightwing was cut off abruptly by his cell phone blaring and he searched his kevlar quickly before answering.

Jaime sighed impatiently. He had been one of the last ones to arrive at the cave for briefing thanks to having to tudor a couple of kids in Spanish at school, thus sticking him with whatever job was left.

"Change of plans," Nightwing said, snapping his cell shut. "You'll need to go pick up Wondergirl at her house in Washington D. C., I have the coordinates and I'll brief you guys once you get there."

Again, Jaime sighed. Getting stuck with Wondergirl meant an all-nighter of either trying to teach her stealth or punching down robots. At least tomorrow was the weekend so he could sleep in.

_[The Nightwing is being abnormally suspicious.]_

"Aren't all bats?" He asked as the Zeta recognized him and sent him to an abandoned part of Washington. Scarab announced the apartment number that Cassie lived at and let Jaime wander through the back water streets until he found the Sunny Shores Apartments.

While climbing the stairs, Jaime talked to the Scarab. "I wonder what kind of mission Nightwing has in store for us."

_[Plasma cannon?]_

Jaime knocked on Cassie's door, expecting her to pull the door open in excitement. "Dios Mio, why do you think everything needs to involve a plasma cannon?"

_[I do not believe all things require a plasma cannon. Just most.]_

After a minute, he knocked again. "Okay, well, no plasma cannon unless absolutely necessary." He looked at the still closed door. Maybe Cassie was taking a shower or in one of the back rooms? He had only been to her house once when Karen and Barbara had grabbed him under his armpits and drug him there with them.

_[Perhaps the Wondergirl is in danger.]_

Jaime gulped. Him and Cassie weren't great friends, and in fact only talked if absolutely necessary. But they were still teammates. So, he kicked down the door, with minimal help from the Scarab.

"Cassie?!" He yelled, ignoring the splintered door at his feet, it's hinges scattered across the room. There were no signs of a struggle. Jaime examined the room, hoping the few times he had been paying attention to Nightwing's "Detective Class" would help him.

"You're paying for that," Cassie said. He looked at her. She wasn't battling ninjas or in the shower, but was wrapped up in blankets on the couch. "Figures Nightwing would send you."

"Uh, what's going on?" Jaime asked nervously. Shouldn't Cassie be ready to pummel bad guys, not wrapped up all cozy watching old Korean horror movies?

That was when his phone started buzzing. Nightwing. He flipped it open, "Hi."

"Hey, did you get there okay?"

"Fine," Jaime said stiffly, turning away from the noises from Cassie's horror film. He walked over to the kitchen, which blocked out most of the noise as he examined the contents of dumped mail on the table.

"That's good. So, Cassie has the influenza and you'll be taking care of her."

"No way!"

The phone went dead. Nightwing had hung up on him. He sighed, while he listened to the Scarab in his head: [_Plasma Cannon?]_

"Maybe," He said thoughtfully, he turned over to where Cassie was watching some girl go through on an epileptic seizure. "Cassie, do you need a glass of water... or ibuprofen?"

He detested sick people. A lot. Even when his sister was 'dying' from the pnuemonia he barely visited her room and when he did it was with a mask on his face and a can of lysol in tow. He definitely didn't want take care of a teammate he barely knew.

_[Team bonding, perhaps?]_

"Please shut up," He mumbled, searching the cabinets for motrin. Cassie looked like a zombie on the couch and he grabbed onto a orange and white pill bottle. He filled a cup with superhero printed on it and filled it up to the brim before handing it to Cassie. Without touching her.

She took the pills without a single swallow, pausing her movie with the remote.

"Uh, so are we supposed to talk or something?" He asks, taking the cup from her, remembering to the disinfect his hand with a clorax wipe.

She looked up sleepily. Her hair was unbrushed and she probably hadn't showered since she had gotten sick. He remembered the one time that he had the flu and couldn't even get up to get himself a glass of water while his parents were at work. "Uhm, yeah," she coughed roughly into her fist. "Do you wanna play a game? I've got Life in my cupboard."

He got out the old board game and began setting it up while Cassie watched on tiredly. He actually had to poke her with one of the game pieces because she was beginning to drool against her pillow. "Okay, what color?"

She eyed the game pieces. "Purple."

He put a peg in the purple car and set it aside while putting a blue peg in his blue car. He spun the spinner for her since she made no move to do so, and she was rewarded with being done with college in one move. She picked one of the career cards and won being a lawyer.

After about five minutes of playing, Cassie was at least twenty squares ahead of him and had finally stopped at the point where she had to get married. He went to grab a blue peg to put it in her car but she stopped him, "No."

He grabbed a pink peg instead. But she shook her head again. "What if I want to marry you?"

_[Delusional]_, the Scarab informed him, so he jammed a blue peg in her car and they continued without any more further influenza induced delusions on Cassie's part.

It took them two hours to complete the game, much to Jaime's dissatisfaction. Cassie got an adopted boy a few minutes after being married, while it took Jaime halfway around the board to be blessed with fraternal twins and then a baby girl a roll after. Cassie was fired from her job, which enticed her actually crying.

All in all, he is never playing Life again.

They watched several episodes of X-Files, which made Jaime scared to even go anywhere near a ventilation system again.

Yeah, and then Cassie threw up on herself. Which was, in a word, extraordinarily disgusting. Which meant he had to help her get to shower.

"Okay, up," He said, picking her up in his arms. She was heavy, especially since she wasn't helping make it any easier for him to carry her. She was wearing a pair of stretchy blue track pants and a large, baggy black shirt with a Justice League symbol on it.

He carried her down the thin hall to the bathroom. The entire room was bright yellow. The floor was egg yolk yellow, the walls were like sunshine and the tub was a shade above the color of stomach mucus vomit. He set her upright but she was still weak and almost immediately collapsed back into his arms. Ew.

"Uh, Cassie, you need to undress and clean up." She blinked at him before reaching for her shirt and pulled it over her knew he was blushing especially as the Scarab informed him.

_[Increased blood flow to buccal regions]_

Cassie was taking off her pants, underwear and bra while he made the water warm enough for her. He was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she was completely oblivious because of her delusional state. "It's warm enough now, get in.

He waited for her to get in the shower and closed the curtain to turn around. He was sure that his face was flaming red.

After her fifteen minute shower, he helped her into a fluffy pink towel and made sure to keep it clutched at the base of her neckline and helped her down to her room. Cassie showed him where her drawers were and he picked out a long sleeved red shirt with a jersey number on it, a pair of gray sweatpants and underclothes. He was a little touched to see that she had a Blue Beetle sweatshirt. He helped her into her clothes, glad that all the "increased blood flow" stayed in his cheeks.

He tucked her into bed, pulled the sheets, blankets and comforter to her chin. "Goodnight, Cassie."

"Wait- stay in here," She whined, looking up with bright shiny eyes to him.

"Uh, no."

Which is how he ended up laying side by side with Cassie (who was sick with the influenza) all night until he woke up at eight the next morning to Barbara snapping pictures with the flash on, on her high tech bat phone.


End file.
